


For the Last Time

by CaptainSchmoe



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adoption, Babies, Child AU, Clinging, Crying, Demons, Emotional Trauma, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Orphans, Screaming, Separation, Spooning, my fics have been a little too happy lately so we need to fix that, offscreen mass murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 18:55:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16001279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainSchmoe/pseuds/CaptainSchmoe
Summary: Mark and Jack (children in this fic) have two demonic counterparts living inside them. In order to stop them from accidentally destroying more places and killing more people than they already have (they orphaned themselves), they need to be permanently separated from each other.It’s a bit rough for them...





	For the Last Time

Mary peered into the guest room yet again, for what had to have been the tenth time this past hour. Since they were brought here last night, Jack and Mark had been clinging to each other like their lives depended on it. Occasionally they would let go to eat or use the toilet, but otherwise, no matter what, they were always touching, always holding, always comforting each other. Mary could hear the panicked breathing through their door, could practically feel them snuggling against her chest as if they were her own children. How she would love to adopt them both as her own.

But the two of them being close to each other was exactly why they were in this mess to begin with.

Mark had just had his eighth birthday party. Friends, family, friends’ families... It was just an innocent game of tag between him and the other kids. Tyler, Wade, Bob, Amy, Kathryn, PJ, Emma, Jack...

Mark and Jack each had one of the demons inside them - the Void and the Burst. The two demons which are never supposed to interact with each other. Under the excitement of the competition, Mark chasing Jack, Jack chasing Mark, both chasing and being chased by the other kids... Somewhere along the line, they lost control. One thing led to another, and everyone was dead. Every last person at that party, every man and woman and child, was slaughtered. They orphaned themselves. They lost all of their friends.

It was a close call for herself and Ken, as they were originally supposed to be there, but had to stay home for a sick Rafi.

Now the boys only had each other to cling to. And they never stopped clinging. They ate together. They slept together. They cried together. The only time they let go was if one of them had to go to the bathroom, and even then, they would make it as quick as possible so they could go back to holding and comforting each other once again; sometimes they even neglected to wash their hands in the hurry.

And now they were about to have even that taken away from them.

“Mary...” Ken leaned in towards her and wrapped one of his hands around hers, locking their eyes together. “This is what’s best for both them and the world.” His eyes fought so hard to hold back tears, she could tell.

“I know it is, but it doesn’t change how hard of a transition this is going to be.”

“We’re going to raise one of them, and Felix and Marzia are going to raise the other. Do you want a specific one or the other?”

“Oh, don’t make me choose,” Mary pleaded.

Ken breathed deep and squeezed her hand. “Okay. I’ll just pick one. I don’t like doing this any more than you do. We’ll break the news tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

Ken quietly approached the boys in the living room. They’d been playing with some of the baby toys scattered across the floor - not much else for them to do here. Upon seeing him, they perked their heads up, Mark startled somewhat.

“Okay,” he said, softly, trying not to intimidate them. ”Here is what is going to happen, okay? One of you is going to have a new family who will take you in and love you.” Ken took care to phrase it in the most positive way he could. 

“I don’t want a new family,” Mark squeaked out. “I want _my_ family.”

“I’m sorry, Mark, but I can’t bring them back.”

“Aren’t _you_ gonna adopt us?” Jack asked.

Ken swallowed. “We can adopt one of you, but you two have to be permanently separated. You won’t be able to see each other ever again.”

“ _NO!!!_ ” Mark suddenly squeezed Jack in a death grip. “No! No! Don’t take him away from me!”

Jack buried his face into Mark’s shoulder, wailing.

“I’m really sorry, but we have to do this to keep everyone safe. Mark will stay with me and Mary and Jack will-”

“Nooo!! Please don’t take him away! Please don’t take him _awaaay!!_ ” Mark was _screeching_ , piercing Ken’s ears and making them ring.

Eavesdropping from the kitchen, Mary wiped tears from her face. Nothing shattered her heart more than the sound of scared and sad children.

_“Don’t take him away!!!”_

“You won’t be taken away right now,” Ken tried to reassure them. “It’s okay, you still have some time together.”

His reassurance failed. Upstairs, the babies joined in the crying.

 

* * *

 

The boys spooned in their sleep on the couch, Jack’s arm squeezed tightly around Mark’s belly, the absolute closest they could get to each other in their final moments together. It broke her heart even more, knowing that once Felix and Marzia got here, they’d have to tear them apart forever.

Her only solace was in her confidence that the four of them would all make excellent parents, and raise them into healthy, happy adults. With enough time, these wounds would heal.

...It was still hard.

 

* * *

 

Felix and Marzia were here. It was time for Jack to go.

“You decided which one you want?” Felix asked Mary.

“I want them both. But Ken picked Mark for us and Jack for you.”

He gave the subtlest nod, the weakest smile. “Yeah. It sucks either way.”

“I’m sure they’re both wonderful children,” Marzia added.

Everyone nodded in forlorn agreement. This really sucked. The boys’ screams were going to haunt Mary for the rest of her life.

Mary very gently prodded Jack’s shoulder. He turned his head towards her, with puffy, tear-stained cheeks, and revealing a wet spot he left of the back of Mark’s shirt. When he saw that Felix and Marzia were there, he knew what it meant.

He didn’t scream this time, but still he cried, he protested all the same, and he woke Mark up, and Mark joined in the weakened sobbing. They used up all their energy yesterday. They were simply too tired and voiceless today.

Marzia held out her hand for Jack. He didn’t take it, but he followed her and Felix out the door regardless.

Mark wasn’t having it. He followed them out their car, holding Jack’s hand the whole way there. He was milking these last moments he’d ever have with Jack for all that they were worth. The boys said their goodbyes. They said they’d miss each other. They even kissed, a little peck on the lips, and said “I love you”, as if they were brothers.

If only they could have been brothers.

Mary choked up again.

 

* * *

 

It was just Mark now, standing alone in the driveway, staring down the empty street where the last trace of Jack disappeared.

Mary attempted to give him a comforting shoulder touch. But Mark pulled away, groaning. She caught a glimpse of his eyes turningsolid black as he did.

It was going to be a tough transition.

 

* * *

 

“I’m not hungry.”

Mark seated himself on the recliner, watching some of whatever one of Ken’s anime shows had been left running. He had sunken into the chair, arms folded across his stomach, one leg bent upward beside him.

“That’s okay, honey. We can save what’s left over and you can eat it when you want, okay?”

There was a pause before Mark answered, “Okay.”

Layla smashed through her lunch like nothing was the matter. Mary was immediately sent back in baby-talk mode. “You silly girl! Are you a messy eater?”

“Mmmmm!”

“Yeah, you are!”

At some point during lunch, when Mary looked back at Mark, his eyes had drifted shut.

 

* * *

 

“Are you a sleepy baby?”

Layla rubbed her eye and scrunched her face.

“Yeah? I think it’s time for your nap, don’t you think?”

Mark perked up upon hearing the declaration of Layla’s naptime. He followed Mary into Layla’s bedroom, watching her lay her down and kiss her goodnight. He shut off the lights for her.

“Aw, thank you, Mark.”

He didn’t say anything. He refused to speak any more than he absolutely had to. Response to trauma, Mary figured. It was something they’d have to work towards, and be patient with.

She shut the door behind them. Then, Mark spoke up:

“I’m hungry.”

Mary gave him the softest smile. “Okay, honey. Let’s get you some lunch.”

 

* * *

 

Over the next few days, Mark never spoke more than he absolutely had to, nor did he want to be touched in any way. He’d picked up a pillow from the couch he and Jack often slept on, wrapping it in his arms and squeezing it tight against his body. This pillow was with him most of the day, every day, especially on that couch, where he often slept spooning it.

 

* * *

 

He seemed to take an interest in the babies.

Mary caught sight of him in the living room, putting on a smile for a toddling Layla and asking her to come to him. Whether the smile was genuine or one he just put on for the sake of Layla’s enjoyment, Mary couldn’t tell. But it was something.

Layla was warming up to Mark, too. Sometimes she’d collapse in his lap and refuse to get up for a few seconds. That was a few seconds longer than before.

Rafi, he also seemed to like. Obviously, he couldn’t really play with him much, but Mark often watched Rafi sleep or eat, or stroked his head, or even held him in his lap - under Ken or Mary’s supervision, of course, as they couldn’t risk him having one of those demonic outbursts he got when he was frustrated or startled while holding such a fragile baby. But there must have been something soothing about being able to hold another living being who wouldn’t wriggle around too much. Something none of the other creatures, or the pillow, in this house could provide.

He still snuggled with the pillow, though. That wasn’t going away any time soon.

 

* * *

 

Mark had nestled next to Ken as the latter was playing a video game, watching the screen intently. Occasionally he’d ask Ken about what was going on, and Ken spoke in his normal, conversational voice. Not forlorn. Not comforting. Just normal. And it seemed to help distract Mark from the sadness.

Heck, Mark even cracked a smile when Ken made fun of one of the characters. And Ken looking down at Mark while laughing caused the boy to laugh a little back at him.

 

* * *

 

One night, just after they’d put the babies to bed, Mark grabbed Mary’s hand, pillow clutched between his arm and chest.

“Do you need something?”

He spent a couple seconds finding the words. “Put me to bed?”

“Absolutely, honey.” Slowly but surely, Mark was growing increasingly accepting of affection, and talking just a little more. Mary couldn’t wait for the day when she could see him at his full potential, running and playing with all the other kids in their neighborhood. But it was selfish to be thinking that at this stage. Mark still needed to heal.

He led her into his bedroom, and climbed under the covers, though he didn’t lie back right away.

As Mary pulled the blankets over his legs and encouraged him to lay his head down, he started talking.

“Do I have to call you Mom now?”

She would absolutely adore listening to Mark calling her Mom. But that wasn’t the right answer. “You don’t have to call me Mom if you’re not comfortable with it.”

Mark stared down towards the foot of the bed. Mary ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t flinch away. “Are you feeling okay?”

“...I’m sad.”

“Oh, I know, baby.” Her hand went to his back, lightly patting it. “I won’t lie to you, it’s going to be a long time before you can be happy again. But it will come someday. And until then, you know Ken and I are here to help you. We love you.”

“As much as your real kids?”

“Aw, Mark...” Mary pulled him against her body - and he let her. “You’re as much my ‘real’ kid as Layla and Rafi. Just because I haven’t had you since you were a baby doesn’t mean you’re not my ‘real’ son.”

Mark said nothing, merely letting out a sad moan into her chest.

“Any child I’m committed to raising with every last drop of love in my heart is my real child.”

She swore she felt the muscles in his cheek shifting into and out of a tiny smile, trying to bust through the despair. It was short-lived, but it was something. Longer-lived was this moment of Mark just letting himself breathe and relax against Mary’s chest, of Mary just breathing and holding her new son against herself. She placed her hand on the back of his head again, feeling the fluff between her fingers.

But Mark needed sleep.

“Are you ready to go to bed now?”

He nodded, and pushed himself back, laying his head on his bed’s pillow and clutching his security pillow against his belly. Mary pulled the blankets over him. She pushed his hair back away from his face, and planted a kiss on his forehead.

“Night, Mark.”

“Wait.” He lifted his arms, inviting her back down. And he gave her a kiss on the nose when she got close. “Night.”

“Sweet dreams, sweet pea.”

 

* * *

 

Mary lingered outside Mark’s door for a while. Little sniffs and sobs were audible from the other side. It hurt her heart. But this was progress. It was just growing pains, she reminded herself. One day she could see him running and playing and being a normal child again, without worrying about anyone else getting hurt.

One day...


End file.
